Veille sur Belle au bois dormant
by Miranda2r14
Summary: How can a Toreador love a Nosferatu? The story of Miranda Montreve and Nathanial Calhoun from MyWorldofDarkness played online.
1. Chapter 1

Watching over Sleeping Beauty (Moments from Miranda's Past)

Prelude Miranda moved silently among the gathered group of men. She carried a delicate silver tray with the finest porcelain cups, keeping her eyes lowered to serve the drinks. Were it any but P re who asked this of her, she would surely have balked at the ignominy of it, but it pleased him to have her adorn his most important meetings. Pleasing him pleased her, so around she went. Reaching the man who was the leader of the delegation from the southern city, she did her best to curtsy while holding out the silver tray. She felt the sudden flare of possessive desire from him, shocked she raised her eyes to his face. The fragile cups shivered musically as Miranda fought to hold the tray still while she battled revulsion. "What was this creature doing here?" Before she could look away, she saw the hurt sadness, and the deep resignation in his eyes. This, too disturbed her and she backed away as quickly as she could, retreating to the door. As she moved away she could hear her Sire, P re, say "She's a vain little thing. She will be punished for displeasing you, I assure you." The two men lapsed into french, and almost grateful that she couldn't fully understand what was said, Miranda moved off to her own chambers. 


	2. Chapter 2

Watching over Sleeping Beauty (Moments from Miranda's past)

Beauties Fall From somewhere far away she heard a high keening sound. Filled with grief and rage it seemed, and she wished it would stop. Gradually she became aware of her own rocking body, and the noises grew closer. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her abdomen, she was on her knees head lowered close to the ground and of it's own volition her body moved back and forth almost as if it remembered the motion of the cradle and was trying its best to comfort itself. The noise she realized was coming from her own clenched throat, and with a choked cry she stopped. She remained motionless for a long long while, lost in the battle raging in her mind. She had never come this close to sanity's edge before, never felt this kind of pain or rejection at all actually. It threatened to undo her. "I am perfect... he can't leave, he loves me! ...I'm too beautiful... no no noooooo..." Around and around in her mind the words danced, teasing her, taunting her. No matter how much she protested he was gone. Nothing in her world before this could have prepared her for the loss of the Blood Bond. She was loosing her battle for sanity, and her mind in a last effort to save itself let go. She was plunged into oblivion.

And so time passed.  
...

...

Unknown and unfelt, gentle arms lifted her from the ground. 


	3. Chapter 3

Watching over Sleeping Beauty (Moments from Miranda's Past)

Beauties Dreams It seemed her mind had become like a deep, black abyss. She had fallen far and climbing out was a slow, torturous process. Inch by inch, year by year she ascended. Her memories plagued her, changing fluidly so that often she couldn't tell dream from truth. At the deepest depths she was completely unaware of her body, but as she climbed she became more conscious of it. Someone had moved her from where she fell, her position was different, she lay on her back arms down at her sides. Miranda noticed but couldn't manage to care. Not yet.

Ever higher she rose, while her mind pieced itself together. Then the nightmare began. She couldn't tell if it were her memory again tormenting her with visions of the loathsome creature or whether it truly was there with her. Either way, the terror almost caused her to slip back farther into the abyss. Her mind tricked her over and over with visions of P re and the the hideous man. They laughed at her in one, in another the ugly one killed her beautiful Sire. She thrashed her body in protest of what she couldn't escape from seeing.

Time has her mercies, however. Senses can be battered only so much before they are thankfully dulled. Through the new haze, pieces of her current world drifted through to her; soft strains of music, the luxurious feel of the fabric covering the bed she lay on, the golden flickering candlelight that always surrounded her. These things soothed her, aided her mind in its struggle for recovery.

There was one thing of exquisite beauty in her new world, and she clung to it like the walls of the chasm letting it hold her and pull her ever upwards. It was a voice, a deep rhythmic sound that washed over her senses, healing them. The voice spoke to her of gentle desire, of the wonders of the world around her. It coaxed her to return, to partake in the pleasures that it described. Many nights it read aloud, it read of poetry old and new, it read her classics and modern fantasy alike. The voice tried many things to please her and she grew to wish she could tell it how beautiful she found it.

It was this growing desire that eventually brought her up out of her decades long torpor. 


	4. Chapter 4

Watching over Sleeping Beauty (Memories from Miranda's past)

Beauty wakes

When weary with the long day's care, And earthly change from pain to pain, And lost, and ready to despair, Thy kind voice calls me back again 0 my true friend, I am not lone While thou canst speak with such a tone!

She arched her back and stretched her legs, vitae circulating into long disused limbs. She didn't want to open her eyes yet, she wanted the voice to continue. She rolled her shoulders and took a deep, useless breath. The beautiful voice hitched, as if with great emotion, but it kept going.

So hopeless is the world without, The world within I doubly prize; Thy world where guile and hate and doubt And cold suspicion never rise; Where thou and I and Liberty Have undisputed sovereignty.

Reason indeed may oft complain For Nature's sad reality, And tell the suffering heart how vain Its cherished dreams must always be; And Truth may rudely trample down The flowers of Fancy newly blown.

She opened her eyes and looked around at her sanctuary. It was a sumptuous chamber filled with paintings, tapestries, furniture and assorted treasures. She gazed towards a mantle lined with gems of every sort, the candlelight causing them to blaze with their own inner fire. She rose to a sitting position and looked down at herself. She was dressed in the finest linen shift, her nails were well cared for and when she reached to touch her hair she found it lovingly brushed. The bed itself was a gorgeous thing, four postered and swathed in silk.

But thou art ever there to bring The hovering visions back and breathe New glories o'er the blighted spring And call a lovelier life from death, And whisper with a voice divine Of real worlds as bright as thine.

I trust not to thy phantom bliss, Yet still in evening's quiet hour With never-failing thankfulness I welcome thee, benignant power, Sure solacer of human cares And brighter hope when hope despairs.

Having finished, the voice grew quiet and she heard the thud of a closing book. The feelings that had been building during her longs sleep rushed in as she turned to look at the man who had cared for her for so long. He sat in a highbacked chair, his legs crossed, the closed book resting atop them. His gaze held so many things she couldn't take them all in at once; happiness, love, desire, fear, shame. The nightmares came crashing back for here was the hideous creature. She shut her eyes tight against it all and fought to make sense of the tide that threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn't reconcile the growing love she felt for the voice, for the gentle hands that had brushed her hair, for the arms that had held her and forced fresh blood through her lips, night after night for so many years with the horrible, disfigured man she saw. "A vain thing... selfish... self absorbed" the words haunted her and she knew they were true and hated herself for it.

From somewhere deep inside, she found strength and the courage to accept what she felt for this man despite his flaws. She would rise above her very nature and see the loveliness in the ugliness. The thought was exulting! She felt as if she were being given the opportunity to enjoy a deeper understanding of beauty than most ever could. She wasn't so vain that she couldn't care for this man who had cared for her for so long.

She opened her eyes once more and looked at him again. She thought that if Kindred might cry he'd be on the verge of tears, but the man behind the beautiful voice was braver than she ever could be. He opened his arms and she thought that he was putting his heart at great risk of her rejection, for he couldn't know what she had just realized in her mind. Miranda slipped from the bed and crossed the room to him, lowering herself down into the chair onto his lap. She let him wrap his arms around her. "Thank you" she whispered. He put his hand to her face and she turned to kiss his palm, then rested her head on his shoulder to let him finally enjoy the simple pleasure of holding her. 


End file.
